


The End Of All We Know

by Variantking



Category: Sally Face (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Angst, Apocalypse, Drug Use, Fluff and Smut, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mental Instability, Night Terrors, Recreational Drug Use, Slow Burn, Survival, Survival Horror, Violence, Zombie Apocalypse, Zombies
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-14
Updated: 2019-03-05
Packaged: 2019-10-10 08:35:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17422511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Variantking/pseuds/Variantking
Summary: When Sal receives a rogue radio signal from a small town called Nockfell, he figures it's his only hope at surviving this nightmare. What he doesn't expect is a whole new set of complications.(Used to be titled "How Things Are" but I changed it cause I wanted to)





	1. This Is Where I Stand

Sal pressed his hand against the small patch of earth, feeling the grass between his fingertips. It was midday, the sun was high and he had yet to find a water source. A half-full bottle sat idly in his bag, he didn't dare touch it yet. He’d need it if he couldn't find a water source by night. The grass was soft, healthy. It reminded him of the picnics he used to go on with his mother. He stood up, brushing his hands off on his pants. He had work to do.

His plan was solid, he had a small journal he kept with him full of locations and contacts. He had prepared it before everything hit, everyone called him paranoid for it, but look at him now. Two months in and he was still going strong. He’d been holed up in Jersey since the runners hit, keeping a low profile, he didn’t need anyone on his ass during all this. He needed to get to Nockfell. The last radio signal came from there, promises of shelter and food supply had intrigued him. He had his route mapped out, he just needed to gather enough supplies for the trip. 

There was a small bodega a few blocks away, hidden away from the other shops. Sal used to know the owners, he doubted they were still around. Adjusting the straps on his bag, he started off through the alleyways, hopping fences and trudging through backyards. It was always a challenge to stay out of the streets. The promise of a quicker route was tempting, but Sal would rather not deal with the mass of lurkers littering the roads. The smell alone was enough to keep him at a distance. 

The shop was just around the corner, if he could get in through the back he might be able to avoid the hoards. He shoved his hand into his pocket, digging out the jagged pocket knife his father had given him. The metal felt cold in his hand, a sense of safety at his fingertips. He turned the corner.

Sal was met with the stale stench of rot, several bodies lay wasted on the street, cars discarded and crushed against street lamps. He didn’t look at the faces, he never did. His feet fell soft against the ground as he sprinted around the front of the building, hopping over the wall and landing at the back entrance. The door was locked, he expected as much. Sal pulled a few bobby pins from his hair, flattening them out and jimmying them into the lock. It was something his dad had taught him when things started to go south. He owed so much of his survival to his dad. 

The lock clicked and Sal gave a silent whoop of achievement. He pushed the door open, careful to not make any noise, he had gotten used to entering buildings silently. Never knew who was inside. His knife sat heavy in his hand as he made his way into the store. Sal crossed his fingers and prayed there would be supplies. The shop was small and dark, any windows being boarded up with boards of wood. Sal stood for a moment, listening for any sounds before turning on his flashlight. 

Bingo.

The shelves were stocked with soups and rations. There was a baseball bat nestled in the corner that immediately caught Sal’s eye. His hands were itching to grab everything in sight, but he had to ration himself. He could only carry so much. Across the store was stacks of bottled water, Sal could cry. A few menial necessities: rope, tape, various tools lined the walls. There was candy and junk food thrown haphazardly around. The store, in general, looked in tack, if not a bit roughed up. Not many people stayed in Jersey after the virus hit. A few stores were left unlooted in the commotion. 

Sal set his bag down, ready to loot, but stopped in his tracks. Something felt off, something felt wrong. He spun around on his heel, facing the small office door. Something was scratching at the door.

Flipping the knife open, Sal reached behind his back, pulling his crowbar from its makeshift holster. He had to be smart about this. If he was quick enough he might be able to take whatever's in there by surprise. It’s risky, he knew that. Almost everything he did these days was risky. He could just leave the door closed, loot the place and run. But his curiosity was too strong. He needed to know.

Pulling himself together, he took a step towards the door. It was a heavy metal industrial door, the kind often used for safe rooms. The scratching got louder, frantic, like whatever was inside could smell him. Sal gripped his crowbar and opened the door. 

The scent of decay and waste filled his airways, causing him to gag behind his mask. He almost turned away, desperate to get rid of the awful stench, but before he could think he was tackled to the ground. His knife flew out of his grip as he hit the floor and he cussed. A corroded body lay on top of him, trying furiously to claw at Sal’s face. 

His brain was on autopilot as he kicked up and slammed the body into the ground. Half its face was missing, spoiled flesh hanging off protruding bones. Sal could barely make out the shape of the face, the rot and decay almost too extreme for recognition. It was the woman who ran the shop. His heart beat heavy against his chest as he reeled his arm back, plunging the crowbar into what remained of her face.

He clambered off, letting the crowbar drop to the ground. He avoided looking at the woman on the floor, opting to drag her back into the room instead. It wasn't the first time he’d killed something, god knew it wouldn't be the last. It just sucked to see someone you once knew like that. It’s something he’d never get used to.

Sal shook his head, putting himself back on track. He zipped his bag open and began stacking cans and bags of food into it, strapping whatever he couldn't fit to the outside of the bag. He shoved a few candy bars into his pocket, just in case. His gaze snapped back to the baseball bat sitting idly in the corner. It was pretty generic, smooth wood, fairly large. He picked it up and tested its weight, bouncing it from hand to and. It was definitely firm enough to smash some skulls in, he could probably hammer some nails into it. He grabbed his backpack and strapped the bat to it, along with the discarded crowbar. The knife went back into his pocket. 

Sighing, Sal slid the bag onto his shoulders, securing it with the buckles in the front. He made his way back through the small shop and left through the exit. The sun was a sharp contrast to the dim lighting inside the shop, Sal had to cover his eyes for a few moments to adjust. Despite the glaring light, it was quite cool outside, a soft breeze pushing against Sal’s small frame.

He had a few hours of daylight still ahead of him, enough to make it to the next town over if he moved quick enough. As long as he wasn’t out past dark he would be fine. Dealing with stalkers was not on his daily agenda. He kept his footsteps light as he made his way through the streets, crossing back and forth between buildings as to keep his trail scattered. The last thing he needed was another survivor on his ass. 

The city was quiet, he’d almost call it peaceful if it weren't for the knowledge that the silence was due to everything in a ten-mile radius being dead. The thought alone made him shiver. He’d been surrounded by death all his life, but it still made his stomach twist painfully. His skin was beginning to prickle, the cool air settling into his clothes. He rubbed his arms and moved on.

Nockfell was just outside of New York, around a 16-hour walk from where he was. Knowing his travel pattern, it would probably take around a day and a half to get there. The radio signal bounced around in his head; “Nockfell NYC, Holed up in Addison Apartments bottom level, We have food, water, and shelter. 3 Lasting, supplies generous, out.” 

The voice was a male’s, he sounded worn out and tired. Sal didn’t blame him, he was tired too. His first instinct was to respond, but the radio he was using shorted out when he tried to re-connect to the signal. Regardless, Sal had an objective. He hadn’t seen another living human since his dad and he was desperate for information. The promises of food and shelter sounded pretty nice too. 

He’d made it another 6 miles by the time the sun fell down past the horizon, casting the road and surrounding buildings in a soft glow. It didn't take him long to find a suitable place to sleep, a small shed in someones deserted backyard. The shed was fairly warm, thick wooden walls keeping the wind at bay, but it felt empty. It had been ransacked, that much was obvious, with various things being thrown around carelessly. Sal just sighed and propped himself up against the wall.

He closed his eyes and imagined he was back in his room, safe and warm with the light buzz of music coming from the neighboring apartment. He remembered his posters, his bed, the way the sun would shine through his window. He longed for the way things used to be, but he knew better. He knew things wouldn’t ever go back to the way they were.

He let himself lay down, falling asleep to the sounds of distant screams.


	2. Greetings And Salutations

Sal awoke to the faint chittering of birds somewhere in the distance. Not much had survived the breakout, but the birds could fly and they seemed to be okay. Sometimes Sal wishes he were a bird too. 

The air was warmer than it was yesterday as Sal stepped outside. It was dawn, the sun barely visible over the horizon, but it provided enough light for him to begin his trek. His backpack hung heavy on his shoulders as he made his way out of the stranger's backyard, hopping over the connecting fences and onto the street. He didn’t want to be on the street, but it was the fastest route to the next town.

The neighborhood he was in would seem quaint in any other circumstance, but now it only felt dull. The grass was overgrowing, plants wilting in their beds. A once cheerful community was now home to nothing but disdain. It wasn’t un-similar from all the other neighborhoods he’d been it, but it was still sad all the same. 

His legs were tired and his shoulders sore from carrying everything, but he refused to slow down, even for a second. He needed to get to Nockfell, he needed to find the boy that sent the radio signal. He wasn’t sure why he felt so compelled to locate this person, he chalked it up to general curiosity. The last time he’d seen another living human was over a month and a half ago. 

It seemed strange, the lack of people. The virus had only hit a little over two months ago, there should still be plenty of survivors. And yet here he was, completely alone drifting from city to city. His company was limited to the empty buildings and wandering dead. It felt lonely in a way he’s never experienced. Isolated, he guessed.

Sal’s stomach was twisting hungrily, he’d been staving off eating for the last two days, constantly paranoid about his ration supply. Now seemed like a good time as any to eat though, so he dug a candy bar out of his pocket, pushing his mask up and popping it into his mouth. It was sweet and chewy and Sal let himself enjoy it. 

Two more cities to trudge through and he’d be on the outskirts of Jersey, maybe 10 more hours on foot to Nockfell. He felt energized, hyper in a way. He had expected more walkers to be roaming the streets, but there was nothing. Even the chirping of birds had stopped. 

Sal paused for a moment, glancing around as he realized just how strange the absence of noise was. The quiet seemed to swallow him, wrapping itself around his body and squeezing until he couldn’t breathe. His fight or flight response was skyrocketing, but he had no idea why. Not wanting the anxiety to intensify, Sal broke off into a sprint down the road, crossing to the other side and slipping behind the houses. He kept running down the back paths, behind fenced backyards and shrubs until his lungs ran cold. Only then did he stop to breathe, his hands flying to his mask, pushing it up to let air in. 

Sal was used to strange occurrences at this point, but this was different. The random rush of pure terror was unlike any panic attack he’d had before. It felt like a warning, a signal that something was coming. A raw instinct to run.

He shook it off, he had other things to focus on. Checking his map he found that he’d ran 3 miles in what felt like 5 minutes. More questions, still no answers. Whatever was going on he didn’t like the look of it. Or the feel of it for that matter. It felt wrong, like some part of him was out of place. 

Regardless of the strange events, Sal kept moving. 

Nine and a half uneventful hours would bring him to the edge of Nockfell, the flaking sign announcing his destination. The town itself was small enough, a few houses dotting the streets. A school sat at the end of the road, spraypaint covering the walls and windows. It felt lonely here, lonelier than the other cities and towns he’d passed through. He hoped the feeling would go away once he found the radio boy.

Speaking of which, he began walking along the sidewalk, keeping an eye out for anything that read “ADDISON APARTMENTS”. He passed small shops and run down buildings until a tall expanse of brick caught his eye. Glancing down he saw the small sign stuck into the ground. He’d found it. 

Taking a deep breath, Sal made his way down the driveway, stopping just in front of the door to glance in the windows. It seemed to be empty, wallpaper peeling off the walls and dust settling into every corner of the hall. He pushed his way in, taking in his surroundings. It was muggy, warm air finding its way under his mask and into his airways. He coughed a few times, taking a step towards the cracked table in the center of the entranceway. There was a small card on it with a note attached; 

Key to basement

Sal pocketed it, wandering over to the elevator. There was no way this thing still worked, but he pressed the button anyway. To his complete surprise (and confusion) the doors slid open, welcoming him forward. He thought for a moment, wondering whether or not it was safe to get in, after some careful consideration, his curiosity won. 

Against his better judgment, Sal stepped into the box, sliding the key into the small slot on the wall. The elevator buzzed and he was moving down.

Though cluttered, the basement was cleaner than the main floor. There was an empty vending machine sitting against one wall, a few shelves in the corner supporting various items. He could hear a faint rustling coming from one of the doors and his hand instinctively went for his knife.

The door burst open, giving Sal approximately half a second to respond before he was shoved up against a wall, knife against his throat. Dark eyes met his and he froze. A million thoughts were shuffling through his mind, his anxiety spiking drastically as he forced himself to steady his breathing. Was this a trap? Some kind of trick? He silently berated himself for falling for something so simple. 

“Name,” The boy's voice was gruff, gravelly like he’d been smoking since he was born, but it cracked slightly as he spoke. Sal took a deep breath, slowly raising his hands in surrender.

“Sal Fisher, I got your radio signal a few days ago,” Sal said, his hands shaking ever so slightly. The boy gave him a quizzical look before lowering the blade. His eyes stayed fixed on Sal, it felt like a warning. He lowered his hands back to his sides. 

“Why didn’t you respond then?” The boy asked, knife bouncing in his palm. Sal tilted his head slightly, glancing down at the sharp object. It made his stomach twist nervously. 

“Radio malfunctioned, the stupid thing broke right after you sent the signal.” He muttered, voice muffled by his mask. The boy nodded at him, flipping the knife back into its handle and pocketing it.

“Okay, what’s with the mask? You bit?” His eyes were steady now, roaming over Sal’s prosthetic warily. Sal shook his head, maybe a bit too fast for someone who wasn’t lying.

“No, no it’s a prosthetic,” He said simply, hand coming up to scratch the back of his head. He knew he’d get this question, it was given, that didn’t change the fact that it made him uncomfortable.

“It’s cool, kinda metal,” The boy’s mouth had lifted into an amused smirk, though not unkindly. “My name’s Larry. Larry Johnson,” He took a step back and stuck his hand out, openly smiling at Sal now. Sal took it, shaking firmly. 

Now that he could get a good look at the guy, Larry, in front of him, he realized he was actually quite young. He looked to be around 17 or 18, probably the same age as Sal. Some part of him was thrilled to find someone his age, maybe it would make things a bit more bearable. 

“So,” Sal started, twisting his hands together “This your place?”

“Aha, it’s where I live yeah, used to be full of people but most of em fled when…. Y’know,” He trailed off, furrowing his brows again and staring at the floor. “My mom used to be here but uh,” He coughed.

“Yeah, same with my dad,” Sal’s eyes trained on a spot on the ground. The silence was growing uncomfortable. “So it’s just you here? The radio said there were 3 people total,”   
“Yeah! Uh, they uh, they went out for supplies a few days ago, but they haven't sent any reports since Wednesday. I’m trying to stay optimistic,” There was a flash of panic in Larry’s eyes as he spoke, he was clearly worried about his friends. Sal nodded again, gaze moving back up to meet the taller boy’s.

“Hey, I’m sure they’re okay, probably just a radio glitch,” Sal assured, giving a small smile behind his mask, despite knowing the other couldn’t see.

“Yeah, yeah they’re probably fine,” Larry shook his head as if he were trying to rid himself of the bad thoughts before continuing. ‘You wanna come unload? That bag looks pretty heavy,” He offered, moving to open the door behind him. Sal nodded and followed him into the apartment. He noticed, albeit absentmindedly, that Larry was really fucking tall. The guy was built like a tree, he looked strong too.

The inside of the apartment was just as cluttered as the outside, various weapons sprawled against the wall. Mostly baseball bats and metal poles. There was a small handgun on the coffee table that Sal eyed curiously. 

“Bathrooms here, kitchen is over there, and these are the two bedrooms,” Larry said, pointing around the room. He opened the first door, gesturing in. “This is my room, sorry about the mess, I honestly didn’t expect anyone to show up,” he laughed nervously, a dusty red tinting his ears. Sal smirked behind his mask, hands pushing into his pockets as he walked over. 

“Dope posters dude, you listen to Slipknot?” Sal asked, eyes roaming across the various bands and movies displayed on Larry’s wall. His eyes seemed to light up a bit at the mention of music.

“Yeah man! They’re awesome! You like metal?” He asked, bouncing slightly on the balls of his feet. Sal had to stifle a giggle. 

“Yea a bit, I listen to a bunch of genres actually. I like keeping my options open,” 

“Ever heard of Sanity’s Fall?” Larry’s head tilted slightly, nudging in the direction of a large poster hanging above his bed. 

“Haven’t heard of them, they good?” Sal asked, genuinely intrigued by what Larry had to say. 

“The best dude, I’ll have to show you sometime!” He flashed a smile, leading Sal back out of the room and into the next. “This was my mom's room, but Ash uses it now.” His eyebrows knitted together, glancing between the door and Sal. “I’m uh, not sure if you wanna room with me or...” he trailed off. “Todd has the couch and Ash is in here so,”

Sal moved to step around Larry, looking over the room before turning back to him. “I’ll room with you if that's okay?” He asked, hands coming up to fidget with his pigtails. Larry nodded, smiling down at him gently like he could sense Sal’s nervousness.

“Yeah man, sounds dope,” He nudged past Sal and led him back into his room, sitting down on the bed. Sal set his bag on the ground and flopped onto the beanbag sitting beside Larry’s bed. He sat up and moved to untie his hair, fingers tangling with the elastic before pulling it from the strands.

“Hey, how do you keep the electricity running?” Sal asked, eyeing the various light sources around the room. Larry grinned, running a hand through his hair. It was quite long, Sal noted. Must’ve taken a long time to grow out.

“Backup solar generator,” He stated, crossing his arms behind his head. “Keeps everything running.” 

“Does that include water?” Sal asked, silently praying Larry said yes so he could finally take a shower. 

“You betch’a,” He must’ve seen Sal’s eyes light up, cause he followed with “You can go take a shower if you want, towels are under the sink,” 

Sal shot up, grinning behind his mask. He shot a ‘Fuck yea! Thanks!” towards Larry before shooting out of the room and into the bathroom. It was small, a bath sitting against the wall with a showerhead attached above. There was a small sink and a toilet in the other corners of the room, a mirror looming above the countertop. For the first time in months, Sal took a good look at himself. 

He’d done his best to stay clean while on the road, taking dips in lakes whenever he could. He didn’t look awful, but he didn’t look great either. Dingy, he guessed. He looked dingy. 

Undoing the clasps on his mask, he pulled it off and set it on the sink, avidly avoiding looking back into the mirror once it was set aside. His clothes came next, shirt and pants falling to the floor, along with his shoes and socks. He turned the knob and stepped under the spray.

It felt blissful, the warm water pooling over his chill body. He scrubbed at his hair, pouring shampoo and conditioner into his hands and massaging it in. He washed his body, making sure to get every inch of dirt off himself. He let himself stand for a while, relaxing under the comforting warmth of the shower. He let himself breathe. 

He finished up relatively quickly, not wanting to waste water, just in case there was a limited supply. You could never be too careful. He stepped out of the tub, pulling out a towel and drying himself off. He cleaned his mask in the sink and clipped it back onto his head before pulling his clothes back on, checking himself over in the mirror. His damp hair splayed across his shoulders, the dusty blue a nice contrast to the pale of his skin. His hands fiddled with his hair, twisting it around his fingers for a few moments before he turned and opened the door. The living room was just as empty as before, but he could hear a faint chattering coming from Larry’s room. 

Taking soft steps, he moved towards the door, leaning in to hear better. It sounded like Larry was talking to someone. Sal strained to hear the other person. There was a shock of static before another voice filtered through. 

“We’re on our way back but Larry…” The voice trailed off and Sal furrowed his brows

“Larry, she’s bit.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about taking fucking forever to update lol, I'm bastard
> 
> I didn't proofread this so uh, just ignore any misspells n shit


	3. Downhill

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Uh oh! That's not good.

Sal flinched at the shout that echoed from the room. Larry seemed to remember his presence in the apartment as his voice lowered back down to a panicked whisper.

“The fuck do you mean, that’s not possible dude what the fuck,” Sal could hear Larry’s breath coming out in frantic pants, the telltale signs of a panic attack. 

“She’s bit, Larry, I don’t know what else to say. We’re half an hour from the apartments, I’ll see you soon,” The walkie crackled out and Sal rubbed his eyes. This was bad, this was really really bad. He twisted his hands together, hovering by the door for a few moments before knocking tentatively on the wood.

“Come in,” Larry’s tone was soft, his voice cracking a bit as he spoke. Sal gingerly opened the door, peeking a masked face in. Larry had his head in his hands, his back arching awkwardly as he hunched over himself. Sal could see his body shaking ever so slightly with the effort of repressed tears. 

“I can stay out here if you uh… Need some time?” Sal asked, chewing on his bottom lip. Larry looked up at him, eyes ever so glossy from unshed tears. “If you want, that is,” This time it was Sal’s turn for his voice to crack, jumping harshly over his words. Larry shook his head, waving him in.

“Nah, what kind of host would I be if I made you stay out there all by yourself?” He half-joked, forcing out a laugh. Sal just furrowed his brows and sat down on the floor in front of him. Larry took a second to contemplate something, before turning back to Sal and explaining. “It’s my friend, Ash, she’s been uh. They got her,” He coughed the words out as if they were a disease, spitting them into the air to fester. “Todds on his way back with her now, I don't know what we’re gonna do man,” 

Sal lifted a hand and placed it on the other's knee, a vague gesture of comfort. He wasn’t very good at helping soothe others, he could barely calm himself down as it is, but he wanted to try. It seemed to be well received, with Larry smiling crookedly down at him. Sal smiled back, despite his mask blocking the expression. 

“I’m sorry,” Sal offered, sighing roughly through the bit of nose he had. His breath was warm against his skin inside the prosthetic, he sort of wished he could take it off. “I know it’s hard. It’s really fucking hard, and it sucks a lot. I wish there was more I could do,” 

Larry ran his tongue across his teeth, heaving out a sigh. “Thank you man, really, it means a lot,” He shot another sad smile down at Sal before heaving himself up and offering his hand to the smaller boy. Sal took it, letting Larry hoist him to his feet. He began to make his way out of the room, fingers lingering ever so slightly on Sal’s hand. “No use sitting around moping about it, we can at least make sure her last day is a good one, yeah?” 

The two spent the next thirty minutes buzzing around the small apartment, Larry handing Sal various items to decorate the space with. He’d hastily painted a ‘Happy Death Day!’ sign and hung it above the couch. Fairy lights were strung up along the wall with dusty streamers, and Larry even braved a trip outside to dig up some ugly flowers. It looked like a very dismal birthday party. 

Sal was adjusting a small painting on the wall when the door flew open, slamming against the wall. He watched as a lanky girl entered the room, her short hair tangled and clothes dirty. A bandage was wrapped tightly around her forearm, stained red with what Sal assumed was her blood. He winced under his mask. Standing next to her was a boy, his orange hair muddled with grime and his glasses crooked. He stood taller than Sal, but not as tall as Larry, his expression was unreadable. 

Larry darted from his room slamming himself directly into the girl, enveloping her in a tight bear hug. Sal could hear soft sobbing coming from both of them. They separated and Larry turned towards Sal, hands scrubbing over his face. 

“Sal, this is Ash, this is Todd. Ash, Todd, this is Sal, he got my radio signal a few days back and showed up today!” He introduced, pointing around the group of people. Sal offered his hand and Ash quickly took it, shooting him a wide grin. Todd didn't offer his hand, opting instead to give Sal a curt nod and a stiff “Hello”.

Larry clapped his hands together, sighing through his nose. “On a much more depressing note, Ash I…” He trailed off, turning back towards her. Sal could see tears brimming in his eyes again as he took her hand. “I know you’re not the type to mope, so I thought maybe we could have a sort of… kinda like a going away party?” He mumbled, giving her a lopsided grin. She beamed up at him. 

“Larry, have I ever mentioned the fact that I love you so fucking much,” She giggled, punching his arm lightly. Larry laughed back, gesturing to the rest of the room. 

“What do you think? Sal helped me decorate!” He tilted his head towards the shorter boy as he spoke, smiling at him warmly. Ash looked back to Sal and pulled him into a hug. He stiffened for a moment before relaxing in her arms and hugging her back. She was warm and smelled like vanilla mixed with dirt. 

“Thank you, Sal, I’m sorry we had to meet under such grim conditions,” Her voice was gentle as she spoke to him, her voice muffled by his shoulder. It took him a second to realize she was crying again. She released him and rubbed her eyes, backing up and plopping onto the couch.  
“So, Lar Bear, what’s first on the agenda?” 

Larry ran into the kitchen, digging around in the cabinet shouting all the while. “Well, I already checked and we don’t have enough stuff to make a cake, however!” He pulled himself out of the pantry and held up a small plastic container of chocolate mint cookies “We do have these! I was saving them for a special occasion, but this seems to be a good a time as any to pull em out,” He tossed the container towards Ash, who caught it with both hands. Her eyes had lit up with excitement at the prospect of getting to eat the chocolaty treats.   
“Larry holy shit!” She mumbled as she sank her teeth into the cookie, still hugging the container close to her chest. She offered one to Sal, who had seated himself at the other end of the couch. He took one and unclipped the bottom strap of his mask, pushing the cookie up under it and into his mouth. It tasted amazing and Sal couldn't help but let out a small noise of enjoyment. Ash stifled a giggle as he mumbled out a ‘thank you’. 

“I thought we could listen to music and just… spend time together. Y’know, while we still can,” Larry continued, voice cracking a bit on the last few syllables. His gaze was focused on the wall and his hands fumbled with the sleeves of his hoodie. Ash just smiled up at him, eyes heavy with emotion, and patted the spot next to her, holding the box out towards him.

Before sitting down, Larry ran back into his room and clambered around for a few minutes, eventually emerging, pulling his entire stereo system out along with him. He plugged a cord into the wall and fiddled with the knobs. Before long a heavy beat was circling around the room and into Sal’s ears. The lyrics were unintelligible and the music was loud enough to attract the dead, but he found himself bouncing his head along to the sound. 

Larry seated himself between Ash and Sal, rocking his body to the music. “So uh…” His fingers pulled at the threads of the couch, lip caught firmly between his teeth; Sal noticed the small gap between the two front ones. “How’d it happen?” He finished, glancing over to Todd, then back to Ash.

The four of them sat in silence for a moment, the reality of the situation finally settling in. Despite only knowing her for less than an hour, Sal’s stomach twisted unpleasantly at the thought of her turning; he’d seen the transformation once, he didn’t wanna see it again.

“I wasn’t careful enough,” Ash began, tucking her hair behind her ear. Her hands folded back in her lap and she sighed. “I saw a pack of cigarettes and I know you’ve been struggling without them so…” Her eyes focused on one of the streamers dangling from the wall as she spoke. Larry looked horrified. “I wasn’t fast enough. It jumped at me from behind the counter, I barely had any time to react. Todd got it in the head, but it was too late.” She focused back on Larry, bringing a hand up to clutch at the bandage on her arm. 

Larry was quiet for a moment, staring blankly at the ground. His hands clutched tightly into the fabric of his jeans. “How long do you think? Until you start to turn?” The question was blunt, straight to the point and harsh. Sal sucked in a breath at the memory of his dad twisting on the ground, the painful screams, the blood. He really didn’t want to see it again.

“A few hours, maybe? The bite was pretty deep,” Ash replied, raising her eyes to meet Larry’s. They were wet with unshed tears, heavy with exhaustion and the early effects of the disease. “I don’t want any of you to watch it happen, I’ll go outside and finish it myself,”

“Ash no,” Todd cut in, his expression held emotion now, though Sal couldn’t quite tell what it was. “You’re not dying alone.”

“I don’t want you seeing it.” She repeated, firmer this time. Todd seemed to deflate, leaning back against the couch.

“This is bullshit. This is all utter bullshit,” He huffed, crossing his arms defiantly. Sal, though not really apart of the conversation, nodded his head in agreement. Losing a loved one was fucking rough, and he felt genuinely bad for the group of friends. It was even harder when you lose them in such a shitty, unforgiving way. 

“I’m just gonna… go out there and finish it off and nobody has to worry about it-” 

“Of course we have to fucking worry about it, Ash!” Larry burst out, throwing his hands in the air,  
“You’re our friend, we have to worry about it.” Tears were pooling in his eyes now, dripping down and leaving dark splotches on his jeans. He stood up, pacing around the room like a caged animal. “There has to be something, there's gotta be something we can do to stop it!” 

“Larry, you know there isn’t, you’ve been through this before, you can get through it again,” Ash spoke softly now, as though she was trying to sooth a timid animal. Larry seemed to deflate, sinking down to the ground and burying his face in his hands.

“I don’t wanna lose you,” his voice was thin, words stained against the force of his tears. Ash moved to hug him, wrapping her thin arms around his bulky frame. “I don’t wanna lose you.” He repeated.

Todd looked over to Sal, his expression clear now, filled with grief. Sal understood, he understood completely. 

Eventually, the two stood back up, Ash standing on her tippy toes to give Larry a gentle kiss on the forehead. She muttered something that Sal couldn’t hear, but it sounded along the lines of “It’s gonna be alright.” The music was still pumping through the room, and in a fruitful attempt to brighten the mood, Ash began dancing around the room, throwing her arms in the air and letting her body sway to the beat. Larry cracked a smile before joining her, throwing his head back and forth, hands high in the air forming the classic devil horns gesture. 

Sal looked back over to Todd, tilting his head as a silent “Should we dance too?” and after a moment's contemplation, the two boys stood up and joined the others in their impromptu mosh pit. The four of them jumped around, crashing into each other and laughing like nothing was wrong at all. 

And for a short moment, Sal felt okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I should really get a beta cause I'm way too lazy to proofread anything these days. Anyway, not ecstatic about this chapter but I had to get SOMETHING out. So here's that.

**Author's Note:**

> I'll try to pump out updates at a decent pace, my schedule is kinda fucked though.


End file.
